Written 7 February, 2007
Last night I was standing on East Beach, looking at photos of Buddhist temples Sweetie was rezzing on a screen-shaped prim.
Suddenly, a black-and-white something obscured my zoomed-in vision.
It wasn’t Little Pengi looking for a fish. Would that it were.
No, it was a female avatar dressed in the habit of a nun—not the modern uniform, but the old black-and-white Flying Nun costume.
Her name was Steph Li.
I said, “Hi, Steph. Welcome to Pele.”
To which she responded, “My name is Sister Steph.”
No it wasn’t. There her name was, hanging over her head. Steph, no sister about it.
I kept my calm, saying only— by way of defense, I suppose— “I’m not Catholic.”
Sweetie chimed in, “Welcome, Sister Steph.”
Steph replied, “Thank you, the one who is known as Sweetie.”
Thank you, the one who is known as Sweetie?
Okay, so it was to be a game. And it was irritating me. But I would play it.
Seeing that Steph was holding a ruler marked “The Golden Rule,” I said, “Look, Sweetie, that’s the ruler they rap your knuckles with.”
Steph didn’t rise to the bait. Instead she said, “I’ve been sent here to discuss with you your lesbian relationship.”
The word “inappropriate” wasn’t uttered, but it hung in the air like rusty sheet metal.
And so I typed “/1 ban Steph Li,” and my trusty Mystitool derezzed her instantly.
Sweetie, less offended than I, said, “It would have been interesting to hear what she had to say.”
No, it wouldn’t have been interesting, for I knew exactly what she was about to say. I knew full well the trip she was about to lay on us.
I did the right thing by banning her.
And I did the right thing by reporting the incident to the Lindens as homophobic abuse.